


Facets of Love

by willowsandwonders



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fluff, Multi, a WHOLE lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:38:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9722831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowsandwonders/pseuds/willowsandwonders
Summary: In a relationship with four people, there are six possible pairs to split off into. Each duo has its own dynamic, but the same love undercuts it all.Or, a domestic look at how the four of them interact one on one. Somewhere along the way is a bad sci-fi movie, a cat, and a whole lot of sweetness.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I used a random number generator to decide which order to put the pairs in, and then chipped away at this in between bigger projects. I hope you all enjoy!

I: Gavin and Michael

“This was an _excellent_ idea.” Gavin declares, feeling the sentiment to his core. There couldn’t have been a goddamn prettier day to float the river. The sunlight glows against his eyelids, warm on his skin but kept in check by the cool water. He kicks at the water idly, not wanting to move much now that he’s finally managed to find that perfect position on his inner tube.

From somewhere behind him Michael hums in assent. Gavin opens his eyes and glances over at him lazily. His little nose is starting to pink, despite the smears of sunscreen all over his face. Gavin titters a bit at the image of his face all pouty and sun-kissed.

Every now and then the sounds of others drift down the river, but for now it’s all _theirs._ Once they’d gotten past the customary battle of trying to upend each other’s tubes, it’s been blissfully peaceful. His hair is starting to dry and he feels loose, disconnected from the stresses of the real world.

Michael drifts closer, stretching a leg out to tangle with one of Gavin’s. He squirms away, the contact slippery and threatening to unbalance him. But he lets it happen after firing off a vague grumbling sound in Michael’s direction.

Above them, the cicadas drone on and the sunlight becomes dappled as they float underneath the trees.

\---

II: Michael and Lindsay

It's raining. Like, really fucking badly. The kind of special southern rain where it sounds like you're surrounded by a waterfall but feels like you're drowning standing up.

They’re taking shelter underneath a tree, which might not be the safest option with the grumbles of far off thunder, but his attention’s held by the warm weight pressed up against his back, whose soaked hair is snaking over his shoulder in stripes of blonde darkened by the water. Gross.

But then Lindsay starts laughing, maybe at his new ‘drowned cat’ look, or the sheer absurdity of two adults cowering under a _tree_ , and it sets him off too. He laughs so hard he finds himself gasping for air, long past caring about the water dripping down his face and into his mouth.

He turns over his shoulder to look at her and _goddamn_ is Lindsay beautiful. Her hair is all over her face, rivulets of water running from the tree trunk and over the crown of her head. Her eyes are sparkling. He grins, heart bursting, and she smiles right back at him.

\---

III: Lindsay and Gavin

“So I just dump the rest of the bag in, right?” Gavin waves the bag of chocolate chips in a wide arc just in case she somehow couldn’t see it, a few errant chips flying out and scattering across the kitchen tiles.

Lindsay bends down to scoop up the chocolate before the cat finds it, as if Lizzie would get her ass out from behind Michael’s computer to grace them with her presence. Michael swears that naming her after the Queen was a bad move, makes her all stuffy. Meg calls bullshit and that Queen Elizabeth II is a badass, and Gavin’s just happy to name cats shitty things. As for Lindsay, well, she just wants some cookies and for the cat not to interfere.

“Oh! Lindsay!” Gavin chirps, scooting past her to grab another bag from the pantry. “We have those weird butterscotch chips too!”

“Michael doesn’t like too many chips in his cookies,” she reminds him while swiping a couple of the butterscotch chips from the bag. Not bad.

Gavin resolves this by scooping out some raw dough from the bowl and plopping it on the pan. Lindsay double resolves it by pressing a few chocolate chips into the dough in the rough shape of a dick. She’s nothing if not an artist.

When the cookies are in the oven, most of them absolutely buried in chocolate, Lizzie slinks in from upstairs and weaves around Lindsay’s legs. And with the kitchen filling with the smell of sweet, rising dough, it’s as fucking close to perfect as things can get.

\---

IV: Michael and Meg

“You’re going to kill me,” Michael gasps, “All of you fucks are going to kill me, but especially you, Jesus _Christ._ ” When Meg had said morning run, he’d heard light jog in the woods, but this girl is trying to take him up some goddamn _mountain_ in the middle of _nowhere_ and the sun is only just starting to show its sorry face.

“Aww _c’mon,_ ” Meg chirps, “It’s just running! You do that all the time at the gym!” But not fucking _uphill,_ he wants to protest, but that requires oxygen his lungs aren’t too eager to surrender. Instead, he makes a pitiful wheezing sound and tries to will the ground to flatten the fuck out.

“I think my heart’s gonna explode.” The incline just doesn’t _stop._ He gets a few feet of blissful, even trail and then it curves up again.

“Your heart's bursting with joy?” Meg asks with a laugh from a few feet ahead. “That’s so romantic!” She turns around to flash him a shit-eating grin. He scrapes together enough energy to flip her off.  

The hill goes on, and on, and fucking _on_ for what feels like forever. Maybe he’s died and this is purgatory--endlessly dragging his feet while his lungs try to crawl up his throat.

And then he’s colliding into Meg’s back.

He splutters, stumbling backwards, and then gets a look at what Meg’s seeing. The trail turns sharply before them and keeps going, somehow even _steeper,_ but there’s no need for them to keep following it. Why would they, when this gap in the trees is offering a stellar view of the sun rising over the forest below them.

Michael’s no artist, but in this moment he kind of wishes he could whip out an easel and just freeze this moment in paint. The tufts of orange and pink clouds, a bath of soft light from the rising sun, and the way it all shines off of Meg’s ponytail.

Not that he’d ever tell Meg, but the uphill climb was worth it.

\---

V: Gavin and Meg

“Is the scientist guy still alive?” Gavin has long since lost the ability to keep track of the characters in this bloody film. He’s spent half of it watching Lizzie try to catch a fly on the other side of the room, which is a damn sight more interesting than the horrible sci-fi ripoff of a dozen different concepts that they’ve stumbled their way into.

“Hm...I think he got eaten?” Meg tugs the blanket further over them, wriggling back into place and draping her arm over Gavin’s waist again. He hums and follows her example, making himself comfortable where he’s curled up on his side pillowed against Meg’s chest. They still have an hour of this shitshow left and it’s too much of a commitment now. God, he hopes Michael and Lindsay’s laser tag date is going better than this. At least he has Meg to keep him warm and in good company.

On screen, the possible love interest is locked in a room filling with water. In space. Because of course. The monster has conveniently forgotten how to open doors, instead fading back to a threatening silhouette against the window.

“Good,” Meg mutters, “Should’ve known better than to follow that douchebag captain, _idiot._ ” Gavin grins a bit at the annoyance in her voice. She’s gotten a little too invested in this one-star-if-it’s-lucky late night feature, he thinks.

The idiot maybe-love-interest dies staring right at the camera with the most forced expression possible. He and Meg both laugh, maybe in poor taste, but they’ve earned it after sitting through this.

He flips over and buries his face against Meg. The movie’s not going to get any funnier than that, and the dramatic flashing lights are starting to hurt his eyes. Her hand comes up to run through his hair and he sighs, letting his eyelids droop.

Gavin’s asleep before the credits roll.

\---

VI: Lindsay and Meg

Lindsay’s a little out of depth, and Meg is very beautiful. Like, goddamn. She loves her just as much in sweatpants and hair mussed up, but it can be easy to forget that when Meg’s dressing to impress, she does _not_ fuck around. Her hair is curled and dancing along her shoulders in that beautiful brown that Lindsay’s still getting used to. Her makeup is perfect as always, eyeshadow perfectly complementing the dark blue of her dress. Around her neck glitters a chain with three little heart charms that they gave her as a birthday present. She looks like a fucking movie star, not like someone on a date with her girlfriend to some fondue place that almost seems shabby in comparison.

Lindsay’s wearing one of her nicest dresses, and she _still_ feels underdressed. She knows Meg has makeup in her purse, and is half-tempted to ask to borrow some. The waiters have gold _bowties,_ for Christ’s sake. Gavin would laugh at her for getting all flustered over _Meg,_ but she’d like to see how he’d fare watching her flick through the menu with perfectly manicured nails.

The stupid fancy waiter comes back and Meg orders these chocolate drinks--Lindsay finds her voice fast enough to ask for one without alcohol, because somebody’s gonna have to drive. It’s always the yummy drinks that fuck you up the worst.

They let the low chatter from the booths around them fill the silence until the drinks arrive. The top is covered in chocolate shavings. Lindsay feels ten pounds heavier just by _looking_ at it, but a sip determines that it’s totally worth it.

Meg leans in then, with a bit of a chocolate mustache. “Look at the old guy on your right--I think he has _cheese_ in his hair.”

Lindsay turns just enough to see, and, lo and behold, there’s a dude in the booth across from them with a suspicious stripe of yellow over his ear. “How did he _do_ that,” she whispers back, sort of impressed. At least he hasn’t gotten any on his designer suit yet.

Then, while they watch, a cheese-covered mushroom he’d speared on his fondue fork slips off and plops into his lap. He goes very still, face turning incrementally redder by the second.

Lindsay turns back to see Meg giggling hysterically. Lindsay breaks into laughter too, trying and failing to smother it behind her hand.

In her peripherals it looks like the old guy is glaring at them, but Lindsay only has eyes for Meg, who’s bright eyes and earnest laugh make her feel right at home.

\---

VII: All together

“This game is rigged!” Gavin cries when Michael lands on the golden space, promising to bolster his two star lead over Meg even further. Mario Party is already getting intense. She’d be irritated by that if it didn’t pull so many bird noises and flailing out of Gavin. Besides, this is motherfucking _Koopa's Tycoon Town._ She still has plenty of time to bring the turtle’s hotel market to its knees.

She leans back a bit into the couch to give Gavin room to scramble over her and Lindsay and try to swat Michael’s controller out of his hand. Michael doesn’t look away from the screen when he pushes at Gavin’s shoulder with one hand and sends him to the carpet.

A flailing leg comes within inches of hitting her, which she ignores in favor of hitting the dice block. Hey, a five--she’ll take it.

It’s then that she realizes why Lindsay’s been so quiet next to her. Meg’s right in front of her two-star hotel, and she totally has enough coins to steal it. That’d leave Lindsay with only one other star, putting her in fourth.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you don’t steal it,” Lindsay murmurs conspiratorially. Meg weighs her options. Michael and Gavin are distracted by what’s become something of a wrestling match, somewhat of Gavin yelling Michael’s name over and over. It’s not a betrayal to Team Winners if Michael doesn’t know about it, she decides. Also, she wants to kiss her girlfriend.

“Make it two and I’ll put just enough coins in to bump it to a three-star,” she says and Lindsay grins. The kiss is short and sweet, more of a little peck, and when she sees the faint blush on Lindsay’s cheeks Meg’s glad she asked for two.

God, Meg can't believe she's gotten so lucky. The four of them had danced, practically fucking _waltzed_ around each other for far too long. And look at them now.

 _This is all ours._ The thought sends a funny thrill through her chest. They've built a home out of four people, and it's a wonderful place to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! I find myself writing way more fluff than I used to, but hey, it's good for the soul


End file.
